The Lion and the Wolf
by LanceofManyNames
Summary: Legends appear across all time, so long as humans are there to tell them. But when legends are summoned from times mankind has forgotten, their fate lies in their battles. Will the flame be fueled once again? Or will the black soul of humanity find an unlikely guardian? Rated T for content.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any works by Type-Moon or From Software.**

**Fate/Stay Night and all related works belong to Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon by extension.**

**Dark Souls is property of FromSoftware.**

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><p>Bazett completed the ritual's chant, and the world was engulfed in light. Smoke from the explosion of prana began to subside, and Bazett and Kotomine Kirei looked to the center of the circle in hopes to see her hero, the great Cu Chulain resurrected from his death.<p>

What stood in the circle, however, was not the Hound of Ulster. A figure clad in golden armor stood instead, his face obscured by a beautiful helmet carved in the likeness of a lion with a luscious red plum at the end. He towered over Bazett and Kotomine, his mere presence commanding power and authority. His gaze looked towards the woman, and a voice echoed from beneath the armor.

"Tell me mortal, are you the one, I am to bequeath the title 'Master' upon?" His tone was strong and commanding, like the growls of a lion that ruled over his herd with power and respect.

For a moment, Bazett's mind was frozen. This…being had just asked her if she was his master. The answer was obvious. She had to be his master; she had summoned him, whoever he was. But the words didn't form; her mind couldn't process the words. Kirei spotted an open opportunity, and allowed his lips to curl into a minute grin. Now was his chance.

Slowly, he reached for the black keys hidden up his sleeve, ready to cut down Bazett, to see the life in her eyes fade as he took this Servant for his own.

His brain barely registered the Servant's movements before the severed arm and huge gash appeared on his right chest muscle.

Kirei's screams of pain shocked Bazett out of her frozen state, and she turned to see the plot caught in action: the drawn black keys, the black blood, and the Servant standing on the other side of the room, his weapon drawn.

"Ahhh!"

"I asked the woman if she was my master. I did not ask you, traitorous priest. And she has yet to answer my question." The golden knight stared down at the priest, his gaze boring through the man's eyes and into his being.

"Thus, I am bound to hear her decision, and to protect her from any harm until such. Thus I will not let you have your wish."

The life of Kotomine Kirei faded away as the knight finished his declaration. With one last breath, he sighed in wonder, if God would welcome a broken human like he was.

The knight shifted his gaze to Bazett as his weapon vanished, and she was overcome by fear of this armored being.

"I will not repeat myself again. Woman, are you the person who summoned me to this war?"

Bazett trembled. Whoever this knight was, he was not human. But that was true of all Servants, as they were creatures beyond human ability. This being was above that. He deserved to be the leader in this war, not her. But if she backed down, she would be a Master without a Servant. And if his actions toward Kirei had been any sign, the power he held was beyond incredible. She steeled her will, and swallowed.

"Yes. I, Bazett Fraga McRemitz, do hereby accept this contract. If thou shalt serve as my sword and shield in this war, then I shall abide by our Contract."

A surge of pain ignited over her right hand, as if something were burning itself over the skin. Moments passed, and the pain vanished. She pulled off the rune-inscribed gloves to see the marks. Three symbols, each a condensed miracle, appeared on her hand.

Command Seals. The marks of a master chosen to fight in the Holy Grail War.

"The ritual is complete. On my honor, I, Servant Lancer, pledge to fight by your side in this Holy Grail War, master."

The golden knight kneeled himself before Bazett, but his height made her only stand slightly shorter than his head.

_Well, this wasn't what I expected_. Bazett thought.

A realization occurred to her.

"If you're here as a Lancer, then why didn't I see your weapon when you appeared?"

"My weapon's identity, though not recognized at first sight, is a significant part of my legend. If I were to display its power before anyone other than another Servant, I fear it might show my identity." His answer came without pause. His machine-like attitude unnerved Bazett.

"Do you think you could stop talking like I'm your king? I don't mean to offend, but I find it easier if we were equals in this."

The air chilled a few degrees.

"…As equals?" Lancer's tone dropped to barely a whisper, but it cut deeper than any sword could.

Bazett felt incomparably small as Lancer stood to his full height, his stride measured, and terrifying. With each step, Bazett inched away, her Servant's measured fury growing with each syllable.

"You, a mere mortal, dare suggest, that I lower myself, to an equal status as yourself?"

Bazett felt herself against the wall, cornered by the enormous warrior, his eyes locking her in place.

"I always knew that mortals had pride within themselves. But to believe you, even when only our ashes remain, would think US as being equals? I cannot believe such arrogance among humanity exists. Even if I am bound by you, Master," He raised an armored finger right at Bazett's heart.

"To compare your kind to mine is to compare a blade of grass to a mountain. You exist because we formed the ground you grew from." Lancer lowered himself so he could meet Bazett's eyes with his own.

"Never forget that."

Lancer broke the stare and walked off, his body shifting to spirit form, invisible to human eyes. Bazett slumped down as her body collapsed from what she'd faced. Her breath came in shallow panics of breath, and she was certain that her heart was now inside of her skull. Eventually, she regained her composure. However, the experience, and the words of her servant, remained. But one phrase kept repeating itself:

_'You exist because we formed the ground you grew from.'_

If Lancer wasn't lying, then he came from a time before human legends. And that meant, whoever Lancer was, boasted power perhaps without equal. She may have just won this Holy Grail War already.

"But how do I keep him from impaling me before that?" She murmured.

It was going to be a long war.


	2. Exploration

A/N: Here goes another chapter. As always, please review and critique!

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><p>Gilgamesh sat in silent thought on recent events. Given the lack of mana being supplied through Kotomine's contract, the false priest had failed in his plans to kill the woman and take her Servant. Leaving the King of Heroes without a permanent anchor to this world.<p>

"Heh. Perhaps I should have endeavored to witness the summoning myself. That would have provided me some entertainment."

Of course, he'd have had to kill the woman before that, and killing such a lowlife as her personally was beneath him. Besides, even with the priest gone, it changed matters little. The only Servants left to be summoned were Archer and Saber. It mattered little who the bowman would be, none of the seven could overcome him. Saber though…

"Hmmm…perhaps another will answer the call before her?" His eyes glowed in intrigue. But the glow ceased as boredom overcame the feeling.

"But I doubt as much. She will answer the Grail's call to war. And when she does, I will be waiting."

He called from memory the chalice of wine he shared cups with in the last Grail War, and poured a full cup.

"Show me if this second farce is worth attending. The King of Heroes demands as such."

In one motion, Gilgamesh emptied the cup of its contents.

"Do you not know it is the highest insult to hold an audience with the king when he has not allowed such, mongrel?"

The air froze and a gasp broke the silence.

Gilgamesh snapped his fingers. The king's treasury opened and rained down its contents on the intruder, explosions echoing behind him before he stopped the barrage.

"You would think yourself able to catch me unawares? I knew you were here the moment you passed the threshold of this appalling structure."

Gilgamesh remained where he was, his eyes not even glancing to see his enemy. Again the voice came, from behind him. It was pained, gulping down breaths between wounds. He absently recognized its feminine quality.

"Damn…you." She hissed between pained breaths.

"I have already endured enough of your appalling presence. Be gone mongrel."

The presence vanished before he finished his decree, but he cared little. The intruder had understood the enormous gap between them, and made herself scarce. If she knew her place, he would never see her again.

"I think a midnight snack is in order."

And so, Gilgamesh descended beneath the church to feast.

It was a satisfying meal.

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><p><em>Morning, The Next Day 131_

Lancer's mind wandered as he watched the humans outside. Somehow in the gods' absence, they had overcome the curse and grown not in mere numbers, but in magnitudes.

_How did they accomplish this? And how did they overcome what we could only halt?_

Lancer pondered for a moment, but could only think of two possible reasons: humanity was just too stubborn or too tenacious to simply accept the inevitable. How else did they find purpose in a dying world?

The golden knight looked over to Bazett. The woman was preoccupied with a map of the city, trying to discern notable landmarks.

"The skyscraper, the church, the temple, and the forest." Lancer said.

"What?" She replied.

"Those will be the ideal locations to scout. The first will provide location and landmarks; the second, given that its occupant tried to kill you, must have secrets hidden."

Bazett considered Lancer's reasoning, and found herself in agreement.

"What about the others?"

Lancer felt nostalgic and looked towards the open sky.

"The Grail, as I have been informed, has manifested along the four leylines of this city. As this is the Fifth Holy Grail War, it stands to reason it will manifest at the original location. As for the forest…"

Lancer went quiet, his gaze focused on the horizon.

"What is it? Can you sense a Servant there or something?"

_If that's true,_ Bazett thought,_ could Lancer have been some sort of hunter in his legend?_

"There is a barrier around that forest, a strong one at that. In my life, those who built such walls had power. But they needed time for that power to achieve deadly levels. During such times, they were vulnerable."

Bazett's eyes narrowed. She saw the hidden message.  
>"You're saying we should try there first? I don't think so. That field could just be a trap set by one of the Masters, or Caster."<p>

Lancer grunted his acknowledgement. Humans. So paranoid they never take the best opportunity, even when handed to them.

"We'll scout out landmarks tonight. If we meet any Servants,"

"Then they'll fall by my spear," Lancer coolly interrupted, "and we shall face one less enemy."

"No."

Lancer's mind stopped, unable to process what the mortal had just said. An ice cold gaze turned to Bazett.  
>"Why not?" He asked slowly. Bazett saw the anger, but she knew this much about Lancer: he wouldn't argue commands if they had valid reason behind them.<p>

"Because we don't know anything about the other servants. For all we know one could have a skill set custom-made to counter yours, or have a Noble Phantasm that reverses cause and effect just like…" her voice trailed off.

"The spearman. The one you had intended to call."

"Yeah." She replied. The seconds stretched on into eternity for the duo.

"We'll scout after nightfall and start at the skyscraper. We can work our way around if we stick to the rooftops. You can see the city for now, but don't go around unless in spirit form. You,"

A breeze passed through Bazett's hair and she saw the open window.

"Stand out." She sighed in defeat and returned to planning.

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><p><em>Day and night. How strange,<em> Lancer thought.

He watched the city from his perch on the bridge. In his time, not a soul would be found outside their homes after the sun had fallen. None save the mad or the twisted that is. Yet here he watched the golden orb slip beneath the distant horizon, and instead of panic there was a palpable energy as the city lit up with life.

Lancer snorted. "How human. They accept the dark yet fill it with their own light in fear of what lurks in the night."

Lancer looked towards the tallest tower in the city, the place of rendezvous his master had chosen. He leapt to the first building above three stories, materialized his physical body, and made his way to the lookout.


	3. Encounter

_**Encounter**_

Bazett looked at the sprawling city in front of her. Just at the edge of her vision she could make out the shape of the bridge which joined the old district with the metropolis. She checked her watch. 30 seconds to midnight. Lancer should be here in-

"Master. I have arrived."

-Five minutes. Bazett didn't reply.

"I take it by your reaction that I have arrived sooner than you expected." Bazett felt embarrassment color her cheeks, but she regained her composure just as swiftly.

"It's a bit surprising," she began, "but the fact you got here so early must mean that Agility ranking of yours isn't just for show."

"Indeed. Though I'd ask you not to jest so lightly of it, my swiftness was a great attribute of mine. I assure you, there are not three heroes in the entire Throne who may equal my speed."Bazett sighed.

Well, at least he can back up that ego of his, she thought.

"Since you're already here Lancer," she started, "what did you think of the city?"

"The layout is well-organized but the population grinds transportation to pathetic crawls, the commerce is good but merchandise in human taste is merely ostentatious without substance, and the architecture abandons all sense of appearance for pure functionality."

Bazett felt her jaw go slack as she looked at Lancer dumbstruck. Lancer returned the gaze with his own quizzical expression.

"Did you truly expect this opinion of mine to hold mortals in respectable status? I am not one to let my thoughts go unspoken." At last, Bazett returned to her real goal: scouting the city.

"Lancer…"

"Hm?"

"How long would it take you to cover the city?"

"Perhaps half an hour if I was quick about it. At the latest, it would take five minutes more."

Bazett let a low whistle loose. She smiled. She walked out to the city and stepped forward. Her toes stretched out into the open air, the wind whipping at her earrings to and fro.

"Well then," she said, "let's begin, Lancer." Without waiting, she let her body lean over the building and tilt towards certain death. But the golden knight was there, holding her like a bride and the fall became a guided leap to the next rooftop. The constant lifts and drops in g-forces would've sent any normal person vomiting mid-leap. For Bazett, the rush of air, the sense of weightlessness, and the surge of inertia, made the ride as euphoric as flying. But euphoria could wait.

"Master." Lancer's voice brought her back to reality.

"What is it?" she asked as they landed.

Lancer set her down and gave her a chance to orient herself.

"There is a presence emanating from this place. Powerful and ancient."

The 'location' was the church where Kirei had stayed. If Lancer could sense something powerful as far as the entrance, it had to be…

"Lancer, that presence you're feeling, is it a Servant?"

Lancer frowned beneath his helmet.

"By all rights, it should be. But," he paused, uneasy.

"What is it?" She asked. Her mind was already assessing points of ambush.

"The source is…whole. It is vexing. Servants do not have corporeal bodies, but the power I detect must be one."

"Shall we check it out?"

Lancer stayed quiet.

"I leave that choice to you, Master." He said, his voice neutral. Bazett eyed the church, dread rising from the building like the stench of an open grave as if warning anyone to leave. Any smart person would've already left.

"Well, let's see if that priest left anything we could use." Magi were smart. That didn't mean they never took risks.

"Lancer, stay in spirit form." An ineffectual grunt was all she got before he vanished.

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><p><strong>Tohsaka Manor, 12:00a.m.<strong>

Rin checked the summoning circle in her basement for the last time. She could hardly contain her mounting excitement.

_One hour,_ she thought, _and I'll have it. The strongest card._

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><p><strong>Kotomine Church<strong>

The church had changed. Bazett felt Lancer's presence shift around the room, trying to find the energy source.

"It is close," he said, "and was here recently, within the hour."

"Really?" The interior looked less like a building and more like a warzone. The floor was dotted with craters, some as large as car tires in width and depth. The wooden chairs, shattered. Some pieces were closer to shards than real parts. Yet, one of the chairs remained completely unharmed. Servant or not, whatever did this warranted a Sealing Designation.

"Do you not know it is the highest of crimes to enter the king's lodgings without his permission, mongrels?"

Bazett's spine turned to ice. Her body wouldn't move.

"Master!" Her reverie broke at Lancer's voice. His speed proved every bit worth its praise. The barrage of blades came a breadth short of her back, and the explosive force rode on her fingertips.

Crash!

Lancer tightened his grip around her. The field was unequal. His size would've limited any option save defending his master. He tumbled out of the explosion and sprinted towards the open area at the church's front. He reached to entrance and released Bazett from his side.

"Ack,ack,ack!" she gagged as air rushed back to her lungs. She looked at the church, smoke billowing out from its broken windows. From the heart of the spectacle, like a demon rising out of Hell itself, emerged a figure. His golden hair singed, his shirt and pants covered by dust.

"Tell me mongrel," the man said, "do you know what it takes to anger me?" Bazett jumped when he looked at her. "It is only the highest of crimes that invokes my ire. And you have disturbed my night immeasurably. For that, you die."

_**Gate of Babylon.**_

The air seemed to split apart, and from behind the man—no, the Servant—came a wall of Noble Phantasms. Weapons from every era, every continent, and every style emerged. Bazett's heart dropped to her stomach.

"Impossible." She murmured. Her knees went weak, and the truth came down on her. This was where she'd die. There was no escape, no hope, nothing. Not even Lancer could stop all those "arrows".

"Hm? Well now, it seems you've realized the depths of your folly. Now accept the penalty of your crimes with dignity."

Five "arrows" flew towards Bazett. She closed her eyes, awaiting cold steel to puncture her. She felt the air twist and whine, felt the force of one "arrow" exploding, felt the earth scrape her cheek. But…

"…What?"

She opened her eyes. Lancer's silhouette towered before her.

"…" The golden knight said nothing. It was then Bazett noticed the sword in his left hand. It was long and thin like a zweihander, yet Lancer held it like a dagger. She checked her body. No wounds, no curses, no poisons, nothing. On her right, she saw two maces protruding from the earth. To her left, a smoking crater was all that remained of the weapon. The figure glared at Lancer.

"How dare you," he growled, "to lay your filthy hands upon my,"

Lancer tossed the sword like an empty soda can, its blade ringing as it touched the ground.

The man choked on his words.

Finally, Lancer spoke. "Master," he began, "if thou ever show'st weakness or cowardice again, then thine life will be ended by me." He raised his right hand up to the sky. "To me, thou art my 'master' in nothing save name. You swore to entrust my fate to thee, and in return, I serve as the sword you wield." At the peak of his arc, a glow grew from his palm. "I shall not accept this covenant if my master is unwilling to face a war's horrors." The glow grew, elongated, transformed. Lancer gripped the shape, and the weapon revealed itself. An enormous spear appeared, its tip long enough to be a sword in length alone. "Prove to me that I was not wrong in my choice."

Despite her awe at Lancer's words, she realized their meaning. This was his test. She could run and die at her own Servant's hands, or face the danger and stand her ground. She smiled despite herself.

"Not leaving me much of a choice, you know," she stood up, and looked the man in the eye.

"Don't worry Lancer. I won't run."

Lancer smiled. "Very well then, Master." His gaze locked on the Servant, and felt his blood boil with pride. His weapon gave a blinding flash at its tip, almost like it wished prove itself.

"Master, give me an order." Bazett looked at her enemy.

"Lancer."

He blinked.

"Take him down."


	4. Illumination

**A/N: Hello! Sorry to have kept you waiting, things got kinda crazy these past few weeks. Anyway, thanks to the efforts of Sociopathic Antichrist and myself, we have granted your wish and completed this latest chapter! Please read and review!**

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><p>The battle began with a roar. Lancer bolted towards the figure, his speed surpassing sound itself. The hail of weapons rained down on him, but they only slowed his assault. With each weapon he dodged, his spear cleaved through another, and then the warrior would seize one to wield as his own.<p>

"Damn you!" The hail continued its endless downpour, a rain of steel bullets filling the air. But Lancer hadn't earned his class in vain. Every sword, every spear, every weapon that came close to him, he weaved through to safety. Faster than mortals could blink, he ricocheted past each volley, a golden bullet arcing its way through the wall of weaponry. But Lancer wasn't lightning.

"Ngh!" A stray dagger had found its way into his left forearm, slowing him down. The gold figure, in smug arrogance, smirked at his enemy's new wound.

"Well, if this is all it takes to bring you down mongrel, I doubt this battle will last much longer. But, I have not been this entertained since the rabid dog and I quarreled. Perhaps you will provide me some amusement."

Lancer moved out of the barrage's path, and sprinted towards his target, his spear scraping against the earth.

"Perhaps if you boasted less," he said, "you would not leave so many openings!" The knight leapt forward, but a spear broke his path to victory. Lancer ducked to the side and leapt out of Archer's range. The bowman smiled at Lancer.

"Openings? I have allowed only one past my armory. Why should I worry of one who hides a weapon? There is no need for it, for I already possess it."

Lancer felt his mind stop. What the archer had said was impossible. No hero in all of existence could have his weapon. It belonged with him, and it had gone with him to the grave.

"That's impossible." Lancer looked behind and saw his master. _That's right_, he thought, _She's been here as well._ Her eyes went wide, but she seemed too stubborn to back down.

"A Heroic Spirit could only have one or two Noble Phantasms, three at most." The gold figure smiled at Bazett, and smirked.

"It seems that your knowledge is lacking in understanding Heroic Spirits, mongrel. Tell me, you do know what a Noble Phantasm is, correct?"

Bazett frowned. "Sure I do. It's the weapons or abilities a Heroic Spirit had in life. But there's no legend of a hero with that many Noble Phantasms. It's impossible."

The figure's smile never left his face, it's curve hiding a detail that the man relished in as Bazett tried to learn that fact.

"That is where you make your mistake mongrel," the figure said, "there is _one_ tale. It is a very short one. Once, when everyone spoke the same tongue and the world was one, there was a king. That king gathered all the treasures of the world. And when the king went to sleep, his treasures went with him. Those treasures became the Noble Phantasms of all heroes." The man looked at Bazett, grinning as the gears turned in her mind.

"No way…" It was impossible to believe. But all stories began somewhere. Every tale of a hero began with one. It began with him, with _his _epic.

"Ah, but it is," he replied, his voice coated with confidence, "I am the First King. Gilgamesh. The origin and epitome of all heroes."

Bazett's mind raced through possible escape options, but nothing would work. Lancer may be faster than all other servants, but against the King of Heroes, he couldn't hope to—

Lancer chuckled. He chuckled without pause, until his laughter surrounded them. Bazett watched Lancer as if he was some surreal phantom. But something changed in his stance. The spear glowed orange, as if burning from within the Servant. His body went tight, like a beast about to rush battle.

"Correct me, _Gilgamesh_," Lancer snarled, "but did you say you were the _First_ King?"

Gilgamesh raised his eyebrow.

"Are you deaf mongrel? I have already answered your question."

"I see." Lancer crouched low, his legs strung tighter than a spring. "Then you will die for your hubris."

"Lancer, wait!" Bazett was too late. The gold bullet ricocheted towards Gilgamesh, his spear aimed right for the heart. It was a certain kill. A kill that was so simple, it made Lancer's instincts scream a warning to retreat. Heeding the sensation, Lancer ducked down and rolled to the side. The chains of Enkidu lashed at the empty space Lancer had occupied, and a storm of swords poured itself down on him in the next instant.

Lancer twisted his body around the steel surrounding him, but it was only a delay. If something didn't happen, the swords would overwhelm him

Bazett extended her magical senses towards the Servants. Gilgamesh released his power in waves of energy. But something else was there, linked to him. It wove and wound its way back towards the church, behind the burning flames, and right towards—

"Lancer!" The knight leapt back, escaping the torrential assault. His armor had several large cracks across the joints, and the inner layer of chainmail was turning red. "_Algiz"_ she whispered, tracing the rune of protection in the air. The runes were simple, so it was the caster's job to specify the rune's role, in this case, a barrier of silence. Instantly, a wall of silence erected around her and Lancer. "I think I found something." Bazett said lowering her voice.

"Are you saying you've found a weakness?" He asked, his eyes still locked on Gilgamesh.

"Maybe. I'm not sure, but it's like something that's anchoring him in this world." Bazett looked at the ruined church ahead of Gilgamesh. "There's something powering him from beneath the church. If,"

"I distract him sufficiently," He said, "you could reach and destroy it?"

"Well, yes." Lancer paused, then clicked his tongue.

"You ask for my trust," he said, "if these were other circumstances I'd rather not. But we have few choices, and no time for squabbles." Bazett nodded in agreement.

"When I give the signal," she said, "we split up. Ready?" Lancer grunted his approval.

"Now!" The mana composing the barrier dispersed and Lancer darted towards Gilgamesh while Bazett ran towards the surrounding trees. If she got lucky, she could get behind the church without trouble. Probably.

Gilgamesh looked at the Master and her Servant. As rudimentary as her runic thaumaturgy was, it was practical in its application. It was absurdly pointless against the King of Heroes, but practical to a lesser enemy. He could read the woman's lips easily enough. She'd sensed something connecting him, but she couldn't specify. The problem was Lancer; he would've been able to read the knight's lips, if it wasn't for that damned cat's face covering his mouth. Then, they separated. Probably some escape ploy conjured up by the woman. This would be interesting.

"So you let your master run off while she leaves you to die here?" Gilgamesh cackled at Lancer as he darted through the assault. "I thought you'd be angrier than you seem, mongrel." Lancer gave no reply, preferring to focus on dodging the lethal steel flying past his face. Gilgamesh frowned. "What?" he asked. "No retort, no words of hatred? I'm disappointed, Lancer. I expected more of you. Perhaps I judged you too highly." Lancer growled at Gilgamesh as he leapt towards cover.

"Tell me Gilgamesh," Lancer called out from the thicket, "If your legend says you found every treasure of this world, why haven't you realized my identity yet? Surely my weapon would've been among the first you acquired."

"I have no need to catalogue each of my treasures, mongrel. My treasury's contents exceeded my own memory long before I finished my collection. What is one spear to another for the King?"

Lancer felt his soul burn in anger. 'What is one spear to another?' he asked. _This_ spear should hold a higher rank than any other. It deserved as such, if not for its power, then for its history and strength. Yet he spoke of it as if was some worthless timepiece!

"What is one spear to another? You, the one said to collect all the world's treasures, say such about the spear that brought the Ancients to their knees?"

Gilgamesh smirked. "I know nothing of these 'Ancients' more than I know the goings on of the insects beneath my feet, nor do I care of them." He scanned over the landscape, searching for the silhouette of his annoyance.

"Then you won't care for this," Lancer's voice echoed throughout the forest, from every corner between the trees. Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes and focused on a distant shape deep in the trees. "_Bountiful Sunlight!_" Blinding light flashed forth as Lancer leapt towards Gilgamesh, praying his master wasn't a total fool.

"Ungh!" Bazett heaved the slab of rubble up and away from the rest. Her brow was beading sweat, and she could feel the smoke curling around her lips, only denied by the filtering spell she cast before jumping into this infernal church. Even between the crackling timbers around her, she could hear the battle between Servants like she was next to it. Gilgamesh was cackling. That was a… mixed sign. Lancer must be doing well to keep him "entertained." And it meant she had to hurry up before he got bored.

"Dammit," she cursed. Even if she poured more od into her Reinforcement, the strain Lancer was putting on her was tiring. But if she didn't move faster, her Servant might die before her goal's even reached. "Dammit!" A piece of the rubble shattered under her reinforced gloves. "I can't move fast enough!" The smoke was growing even thicker, and Bazett could feel it begin to cloud her vision. "Come on," she said, "keep going. It won't end like this. He's counting on me." Again she lifted a piece of debris, and again she felt her mind cloud in the smoke. Finally, she had almost cleared the way. But the piece was too big, and she was too weak. "Come on," she wheezed, "move!"

And it did. For one instant, Bazett felt like someone else was standing right next to her, pushing the stone with her. But when she looked, all she caught was a flash of pink so brief she dismissed it. A doorway leading underneath the church was her prize. Slowly, she made her way down below the smoke and fire. What greeted her at the bottom step, made her seriously consider whether the fire had been a better choice.

Corpses. Dried, shriveled corpses. Barely beyond their teens, their muscles were atrophied, their skin dried and outlining bone. And they were alive. Alive, breathing in pain. Breath with collapsed lungs, lungs that couldn't even be organs, organs that were long past death, and death they were denied. Bazett fought the overwhelming urge to release her lunch from the depths of her stomach. This was where Gilgamesh was fueling himself? Who in their right mind was twisted enough to do this? "Kirei," she breathed out the priest's name. "You bastard." She forced herself to face one of the corpses. Even if it couldn't open its eyes, she heard its plea, the plea they silently chanted:

_Kill us. Free us. Please._

In her life, Bazett had killed many things that were a sin for just existing. She had killed many for the sake of secrecy upheld by all magi. But just this once, she knew what to do, and hated it. These husks, they weren't even adults. What had possessed Kirei to do this, she'd never know. But that wasn't important now. All that mattered was her job. Just like before. Focusing her will, she felt her connection with Lancer, and understood he was ready.

Her hand wrapped into a fist, and od flooded into her rune-inscribed gloves. She saw a crack in one of the weakest columns, and aimed for it. "I'm sorry to do this." She whispered. The corpses gave no reply. They knew what was happening, and had accepted the thought of death long before this day. With a ferocious cry, she drove her hand into the column, marble and stone caving before the force of magecraft. The message flew out from her mind and into her Servant's. It was up to him now.

**Tohsaka Manor: 12:55am**

Rin heard the clock tick away. She felt blood pound in excitement. In five minutes, she would summon the class Servant Saber, and she would win the Holy Grail for certain. She almost squealed in joy. _Wait a second._ Rin stopped, and breathed deeply. _Calm. Serene. Control. _The Tohsaka way did not allow for emotions to cloud judgment or action. She was a magus, and control must remain a constant. She opened her eyes, and looked at the circle again. Her heart jumped a little. She was still excited.

**Kotomine Church: 12:55am**

Lancer felt his mana supply weaken. His master was a competent magus, if not skilled. But she couldn't keep him adequately powered for long. And if his link with her was weakening, it didn't mean anything good. Pained, deep breaths came between his thoughts. Lancer chanced a sideways glance at the ruined church. He couldn't see her. But he could feel her. Her heartbeat. Her breath. She was alive. That wouldn't last.

"I have grown tired of this." Lancer's sight snapped back to his opponent. His opponent's armor was unscratched. His was dented and worn almost to destruction. And to top it off, he was at his limit. One more strike was all he had left.

Lancer said, "Tell me, Gilgamesh. Do you still not know my spear? Not its shape, its power, or its history?"

"I will not repeat myself, mongrel. I care not for that spear, nor its identity. In my eyes you are just a thief who gave that spear a name and claimed it was yours." The King's treasures charged with power, ready to skewer Lancer. The golden knight closed his eyes.

"I see. Then I shall show you the depth of your erroneous words." Lancer's spear shined in the night, a light like the stars. Lightning danced down its length, until the true spear took shape. A golden cross-guard, wound together with threads that even Enkidu could not match in strength; beneath the guard the spear's shaft was cut from wood of ancient timber, the likes of which were never known on Earth once they burned. Finally, Lancer lifted the last veil on his blade: the spear's tip shined, its glow as bright as the sun reflected on the sea.

"Master, should I fail, I will confess this: you were not without strength." Lancer charged his spear with od, and felt the sensation of power flow into him. It was soothing, like a quiet voice in his mind that drained his mind of all but what he saw in front. A voice like a woman's, like…

_Lancer!_ The knight opened his eyes. It was her voice. His master's voice! _Do it!_

Beneath his helmet, Lancer's soul flared. He would not have another chance. With fury in his eyes, he charged the King of Heroes.

**_Dragonslayer—_**

"How foolish, mongrel." Gilgamesh began, "You are a mere," his voice stopped.

**_SPEAR!_**

With a roar of triumph as bestial as his namesake, Lancer drove his spear through the King's heart. Bone splintered and charred as the tip pushed its way without pause until it was lodged in Gilgamesh's chest.

For a moment, neither the King of Heroes nor the Dragonslayer moved. Ordinarily, this would merely slow down the King of Heroes. He had taken worse blows and still survived. But something was missing, something indefinable that he had felt slipping away. Only the snarling cracks of timber gave away his weakness: that damned woman had killed his prana source. And as his defeat cemented, he realized why he couldn't call Lancer's spear.

At last, Gilgamesh heaved a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, there was no anger nor arrogance nor shock. Only a painful nostalgia.

"Tell me, King of Heroes." Lancer asked scathingly. "Now do you recognize this blade?" Gilgamesh sighed as his armor turned crimson, but his speech did not falter.

"Yes." He whispered. "Now I remember. This spear. The spear of the Dragonslayer." Beneath his helmet, Lancer felt his eyes widen. "And I remember why I could not draw it forth. Because it was one of the weapons I vowed I'd never take. Because I could not bear to shame myself in stealing the arms of my father's four highest knights."

"It can't be." _How could this mad, proud king be… _

"Hear me now, Lancer," said the King of Heroes, his body fading into oblivion, "do not entrust your wishes to a mere cup. If you truly wish for a miracle, do so with your own power."

And with his last breath, the King of Heroes returned to the Throne, leaving his victor vexed and confused.


	5. Interlude

**A/N: Man. Sorry for the long wait you guys. And if you're disappointed about this chapter, well then, sorry. Things have just been kinda…slow. Anyways, thanks again to Socio for helping me and his patience. As per requirement, I do not own, nor claim to own Dark Souls nor Fate Stay Night. Both are owned and distributed by FromSoftware and Type Moon, respectively.**

**And just to make sure: Review!**

* * *

><p><strong>Tohsaka Manor 1:00am<strong>

"Huh?" was Rin's response at her failure. The room she'd planned to summon her Servant was absent. Confusion began to well up, until…

_Kra-Koom!_

"Now what!" An explosion rocked the manor. Rin sprinted for the living room, the source of the blast. Shoving the door aside, she beheld the source of her troubles. A man with snow-white hair and tanned skin was lying back on an upturned chest and dresser. He wore a red cloak that reached around his arms but not the chest, and he wore black pants with silver armor. Even if he didn't say anything, the power he radiated left it without question: this man was a Servant.

Rin stared at the man, her mind flying with a flurry of questions: _what class are you, what are your Noble Phantasms, what's your true name?_ But the clock that was set an hour early answered the most important question: she'd screwed up at a pivotal moment. She was an hour early 'till her magical energy peaked.

"I did it again." She shook her head. She glared at the man seated on the throne of furniture. "So, what are you?"

The man opened one eye. "Those are your first words to me?" He said smiling. "Geez, it appears I've been summoned by a terrible Master."

**Kotomine Church**

It took Lancer a whole minute before he could move. With his strength depleted, his legs buckled under the strain of injury. Every breath was a needle piercing his head, his mind a storm of conflict. What he had done was a sin. He almost shuddered at the thought if his lord had been here. Gods judged crimes against their own with merciless vengeance, and he was without doubt guilty.

Wood snapped and fire snarled, freeing Lancer from his woes. _Yes, _he thought,_ I will be judged. _But for now his goal was clear; he approached the rubble. For now, his Master superseded any moral doubts that plagued his mind.

Bazett clasped Lancer's arm and came to the aftermath of battle. She surveyed the damage and sighed. The area around the church was scorched in some spots, and ashes in others. The church—what was still left—looked like the aftermath of raiding a mage's workshop. Bazett pinched her nose. The world of magecraft had very few uniform rules that weren't somehow slithered around, but the one ironclad law was to maintain its secrecy. And that meant she was damage control. "Great," she said. "I'm going to be up to my neck in explaining this to the authorities." And so she waited for the sound of sirens.

For the next ten minutes, she didn't hear anything. "What's taking them?" She said rubbing her hand. Between the battle, the fire, and the 'sights,' the itch on her hand had flared to a near-burning sensation that wouldn't-

Her eyes widened. She tore off the glove on her right hand. The command seals were glowing. _Another Servant!_ She thought. A flurry of curses went under her breath and Lancer immediately stood by her side, ready for any attack, regardless of his wounds. "Show yourself Servant! I know you cower in shadows!" he snarled.

Silence. And then, the silence betrayed itself with a sound: the flutter of hair against the breeze, a tiny pressure on the wood of a tree. And with barely a sound, the hidden enemy presented herself. From the cover of the trees, almost seductive in her movements, a woman emerged.

Bazett looked at her. Her hair, a rich shade of pink reached down to her ankles, and she was clad in black leather-like clothing, with a purple blindfold over her eyes. "You are Bazett, Master of the Servant Lancer, correct?" Her voice was soft and sultry, like a snake sliding across the ground. And it made Bazett's skin crawl. _Great,_ she thought, _two Servants in one night. Just my luck_. "Master," Lancer muttered, "leave her to me. She must have watched our battle, and will use that knowledge. I can-".

"No offense Lancer," Bazett murmured, "but I don't think she's here to fight. If she was, she had her chance." _Not to mention you're in no condition to fight, _she thought. She shifted her attention back to the Servant. "Who wants to know?" she asked.

The woman's lips curled into a minute smile. "My Master witnessed the battle between your Servant and the one called Gilgamesh. He was impressed by your Servant's abilities, and believes an alliance could prove advantageous to us both." The Servant brought her hand up to rest on her chin, the smile still on her lips. 'If you agree I will even tell you another Servant's location. So tell me, Master of Lancer, what is your decision?"

Bazett frowned. On the one hand, an alliance would improve her chances of winning the War, and it meant that she'd also know who'd she'd be fighting against in the final battle. Hell, this Servant's master was even willing to give away the site of another Servant. It was a great deal. And that was the problem; it was a deal too good to trust. The alliance was probably a trick to give this Servant's master a chance at killing her, despite the success rate favoring her and Lancer. And that information could be a trap. If it was genuine, then their "alliance" might end with her and Lancer left to dry. It would take an absolute bonehead to agree to this deal. And it would take only a competent magus to twist it for their goals. Bazett smiled.

"Tell your Master that I'll give my answer tomorrow night." The Servant almost hid the frown on her face. Almost. "If you don't like my answer, you could always take it up with Lancer." The golden knight appeared with his spear poised to strike, humming with energy. If he was exhausted, he wouldn't allow his body to show it; his pose said it all: _One move, and I'll kill you._

The violet haired Servant sighed. "Very well," she said, "meet at the Fuyuki school grounds tomorrow at midnight. I will tell my master of your…conditions." The woman crouched down into a pouncing stance, her body tense and coiled. "And by the way" she said, "call me, Rider."

Rider flipped back out and over the gate entrance and vanished.

**Matou Household: 1:05 a.m.**

Matou Shinji didn't notice when Rider returned, as he was occupied with his sister. Or rather, she was occupying him. After half an hour attending to her "needs", and moving to the family room, he asked her about what had happened. She told him and waited for his reaction. Shinji leaned back into the couch and smiled. "So, Lancer has a strong Noble Phantasm and an Irish woman for a Master," he said. "I suggest we form an alliance as quickly as possible," Rider said, "with Lance as our ally, and only one class left, it may be prudent to attack,"

"Did I ask for your advice!" Shinji snapped. His eyes had gone from lazy to being filled with contempt, as if his gaze alone would make her burst into flames. Rider said nothing. "I don't need Lancer's help," he said standing from the couch,, "I don't need anyone's help." He looked at the Servant. And then his face lit up as he realized something. "But I could use Lancer, if I got that woman." He looked at Rider, and he smiled. The sight was unnerving, but Rider stayed still. "Go off and enjoy my sister," he said standing at the doorway, the smile never leaving his face. "I have a plan." He closed the door, its hinges creaking with each turn until it shut.

_Revolting_, Rider thought. It took every ounce of will to withhold the urge to break down his door and turn his testicles into wall decorations with the utmost refinement. But she had to, for Sakura's sake. Sighing, she entered her Master's—her _true_ Master's—room and approached the bed. Even after the brutal raping she'd received from Shinji, Sakura had managed to fall asleep with a peaceful face. Her breath was soft and prolonged, not unlike a newborn babe lost in the realm of dreams. Rider gently shook her until she awoke from her slumber, rubbing her eyes. She started to speak, but Rider pushed a finger on her soft lips. "No words," she whispered, "Not tonight." She simply nodded, and laid herself bare, ready for Rider. The next hour for Sakura was short, but compared to her brother it was bliss. For the rest of the night, as she stayed in her Master's room, Lancer's armored gaze haunted Rider's dreams. It was a hunter's stare. For an instant, she remembered that same stare on the damnable face of her killer, just before he'd sliced her head off. And so, she decided she would watch Lancer. Very carefully.

**Elsewhere…**

As the cover-up of the Kotomine Church ensued, another party watched. From the perch of a distant tree, a little bird watched as the Master and Servant worked. From the eyes and ears of the little bird, a witch in purple robes watched Bazett move the rubble from her crystal ball, the Irish woman bickering with her invisible Servant. Most of it was pointless quarrelling, but she'd started talking about his abilities in detail.

'And about that, how come you don't use prana when you perform thaumaturgy?' The invisible hero sighed. 'As I told you, I do not…' Caster enhanced the familiar's hearing, hoping for anything: a whisper, a mutter, a bolt of lightning headed straight for—

_Oh crud._ The feedback cut and the room shook with the backlash, as Caster caught the crystal ball as it tilted. "Phew." With her agent discovered, it was safe to assume it was true for the others at the church. Or they had simply been killed during the battle between Lancer and Gilgamesh. The fact her feed had cut just as Lancer revealed his Noble Phantasm only enhanced her frustrations. "Well, I guess I'll just have to find out myself. For now, other matters take priority." She left the room and headed to the center of Ryuudou Temple, a summoning circle engraved into the floor. And within moments, a fake Servant filled the slot of Assassin.

**Kotomine Church**

"Is it done?" Bazett asked, setting down the slab of debris. Lancer returned from his spiritual form and nodded. "We are alone now." With the tension lifted, she sat her sore bottom on the slab, sucking in air between pained breaths. "I am not playing 'damage control' ever again, so help me," her shoulders sagged as she let the aches come in. "So, how exactly did you know about the familiars?" She rubbed her joints, the pain marginally soothed.

"You could say I can sense the electricity within living things. When I saw this," he presented the electrocuted specimen, "I sensed nothing. Anything moving and not giving off electricity is already dead." He tossed the cooked bird back into the trees. Bazett stood up and arched back, the popping noises in her spine relieving. "Well, I think we've both had our share of fun tonight," she walked away from the church on the hill until she faced Lancer. "And Lancer," she said.

"Yes?"

She could feel her cheeks burning. "Thanks for saving me." She paused, "Twice." Thirty eternal seconds passed until Lancer replied. "It is…welcome, to have thanks. And to know," he paused, "there are…some mortals who can still be trusted." Her curiosity rose, but Bazett thought better of it. Lancer wasn't one to divulge details unless necessary. "Well, let's head back." She finished with a yawn. Lancer simply nodded and extended his hand. "Milady." he said. Bazett felt her cheeks turn a shade redder. She placed her hand in his, and felt herself lifted into his arms like a bride. And with that, the pair made their way back to Bazett's house.


	6. New Beginning, Part 1

**_ The Lion and the Wolf: Chapter 6: New Beginning_**

_The Day: 2/2 _

Bazett groaned and turned her head in an attempt to escape the glare of the evil morning sun. She opened her eyes and checked the time; her clock read the day as February 2, at high noon.

"A whole day huh?" she muttered. "Lancer's battle must've strained me more than I thought." She slipped out of bed, discarded her dirty clothes, and hopped in for a quick shower. The rushing water was a welcome feeling on her skin. Water had a cleansing aspect to itself, removing all the rough, chipped, or dirty parts and making it wash away. It helped her live with the things she'd done as an Enforcer.

"Master." The voice of her Servant echoing in her bathroom, in her shower, with her naked, wasn't welcome.

"Lancer, what are you…? Why are you…? Will you get out!" Lancer's silhouette appeared behind the shower curtain.

"You mortals and your modesty. I can understand it, but I'm amazed by the lengths you'll take it." He said.

"Just get out!" she said. He did as told and waited until Bazett finished up. The modest bathrobe she exited wearing didn't surprise him. For one so young she had still developed the kind of body the sculptors of Anor Londo would've killed to immortalize in stone yet he still felt unease looking at her. His vision changed frequencies to see her soul as it would normally manifest and he stiffened. It was soaked in blood, from the lines of her hair to the marrow on her fingernails. And none of it was mortal.

"Something wrong Lancer?" her voice shook him back to reality.

"Nothing master. Just reminiscing." He said.

"About what?" she asked.

"An old friend of mine. If she were alive, you might've become her protégé." Bazett felt her pride swell a little.

"Really?" she inquired, clipping on her earrings.

"Maybe. She trusted few people, and fewer mortals still. But those she did trust, she did so with her life and soul."

"Thanks." She said.

"I suppose you'd like to hear my report, or would you rather I leave you standing there awestruck?" Lancer said, ending her reverie.

"Right. Care to share over tea?" she asked. "I find it helps soothe nerves." He shook his head. "Suit yourself." She headed for the kitchen, wondering what her Servant had learned.

"So, any news since I was out?" Bazett said.

"Fortunately for you, the authorities wrote off the battle as a mere gas explosion. How anyone could believe such nonsense I cannot begin to fathom." Lancer shook his head.

"The important thing is that the secret of magecraft is still that, a secret. Not how sound or silly the lie is," she said setting down her cup. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Lancer moved to the couch and eased into its folds as it groaned under his weight. "While you recovered, some of your familiars came to me. Apparently, the discovery of those child corpses has thrown the city into an uproar." Bazett suppressed a shudder at the memory. "It seems this is in our favor. " She could almost feel the predatory grin on Lancer's face. "The other Masters are running scared."

**Tohsaka Manor**

_ '…The discovery of the bodies underneath the Kotomine church has caused an uproar amongst the city, as many of the identified were the surviving children from the horrific fire 10 years ago. While authorities insist the explosion was caused by gas leaks, citizens still fear what may lie further beneath the church on the hill. In other news~!'_

The sounds of static filled the room. Archer materialized against the wall as he watched Rin don her signature red jacket. "So I cannot convince you?" he asked.

"I've already made my decision, Archer." She grabbed her schoolbag. "As the Second User of Fuyuki City, I have to ensure that I keep the peace. There are only two Magi at school. One is me, and the other isn't close to being a potential Master." Rin smiled at Archer.

"Wouldn't that mean whoever attacked the church is a third party? Perhaps not even a magus?" Archer replied.

"Then we'll eliminate them before they cause more trouble." She said. "Honestly, it was hard enough to convince the Church to not send in a squad of Executors or even a Burial Agency member yesterday. I'm not going to let some loose cannon run amok on my ground."

Archer mentally sighed and decided not to prod further. "Well then, I suppose you can't do that if you stay here for the entire War." He smiled before looking past her. "By the way, Rin, it seems you'll be five minutes tardy if you don't leave now."

"What?!" She glanced at the clock behind her and swore. She was late. "Oh no, I can't soil my record!" And without even a pause, she was out the door, with one amused Archer in tow.

* * *

><p>The day was beautiful. The clouds had immense expanses of pristine sky into which they bloomed with wispy splendor. In all his years, these were the days Lancer treasured. Scouting during the day was tedious, but it had some advantages, the greatest of them being freedom of movement. Even immaterial, the lives of mortals offered him some amusement. He had almost completed searching the suburbs when he sensed something.<p>

_ Hm?_ He stopped to take in the area, hoping to home in on the sensation. From the lilting melodies of chirping birds to the beating of ten thousand hearts, he felt it all. Finally, he found the object of his search; from his perch, a school stood a few kilometers away. The building wasn't unique, but it left him uneasy. "What are you hiding?" he wondered. Without a sound his spirit landed on the roof across from the school's entrance. Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary: classes changing, bodies moving, people teaching. Then he spotted it: a magic circle.

"By Gwyn's light." He muttered. As he scanned the grounds, the circle appeared again and again, each finding weighing heavier on his mind. When he discovered the fifth node, he realized the intent. _This is a soul absorption circle! And if the school is the target…_Lancer cringed at the thought. His eyes locked on the closest marker. A bolt of energy shattered the cement a scant few inches from his outstretched foot. Instinct screamed in Lancer's mind, shoving his body into a backwards flip. From the roof behind, he crouched to scan for his attacker. Atop the main building's roof, he saw him: a man in red robes with a bow in his hand. Even from such short distance, Lancer understood the message: _Leave. _

"Very well," Lancer growled, his voice rumbling like thunder breaking on distant mountains. With a last look, he took off and sprinted back to his master. He didn't care about being followed or not, that was a simple thing solved by his speed. For now, there was a reckoning to be dealt.

At the school, Archer sighed. Perhaps all the timeline traversals had made him soft, allowing an enemy such a free chance at retreat. In any case, he'd probably pay for it later. For now, he had information for his master.

Lunch couldn't come soon enough for Rin. As soon as she heard the bell sound, she was up on the roof before anyone could interrupt her.

"What is it, Archer?" Even immaterial, she could feel the cold frown on his face.

"We had a visitor today. A Servant was scouting out the school while you were busy. They seemed rather interested about the bounded field before I dealt with them." He could feel Rin's panic rising.

"Wait, you opened fire in broad daylight?! Are you stupid or do you want the Burial Agency to visit?" He absently noticed her face had turned a new shade of crimson at the discovery. Archer just smiled.

"Just a warning shot, and nothing that can't be mended before notice. And I wanted to defend my Master's territory."

"T-Then why didn't you drive him off sooner?" Archer decided to explain before steam left her ears. "Intelligence gathering. Even from a way's off, he didn't seem to notice me before I was on him. But he checked several spots for arrays that made up the field before I stepped in. He's probably either familiar with this level of magecraft, or he sensed the energy given off by the arrays. Possibly both." He continued. "Also, he seems quite agile, even in spirit form. He managed to retreat before I even nocked my second arrow, and his instincts seemed unusually sharp once he noticed me. I doubt he'll be fooled twice. From my guess, he's either a very fast Saber or…"

She clicked her tongue. "Servant Lancer."

"Aye. That's how it looks." Archer's frown deepened. This was bad, and things were only getting worse. From what he remembered, not even Cu Chulainn had been that fast or that smart. Any further differences just melted together into pointless trivia.

Rin sighed. "Well, it seems we've found our first enemy. He'll probably come back later. For now, keep a watch. Lunch is almost over anyway, and I've got to reach class."

As Lancer headed to his master, he could feel the eyes of that knight in his core. There was no doubt that man was this war's Archer, but even now he seemed a mystery. His eyes were cold and hard, a trait that Lancer had seen in the faces of only veteran knights and experienced assassins. All sense of passion and battle had left them, save on the battlefields. Often, they moved like Sen's automatons: perfect execution without a shred of purpose. Whatever had given Archer such eyes was a tragedy all his own. One's demise was one's own making. Upon sensing no followers, he headed to Bazett's home.

* * *

><p>Bazett let the warm steam of her tea slip in her breath. She felt like things were finally going smoothly…<p>

"And now one of the Masters has turned desperate. They have begun targeting the commoners." Lancer muttered. The cup shattered against her wooden floor. A breeze could've been mistaken for a bomb in the silence. Bazett's face didn't change as she looked at Lancer.

"How many are they targeting?" the words held no rage, but Lancer saw the fury in her eyes.

"Approximately two hundred. The majority are students."

Rage suffused Bazett's face, muscles in her neck tightening and the grinding of teeth thunderous in her skull. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails pressing into the soft flesh. Slowly, she rose from her seat until she remained standing, muscles taught.

"Dammit!" A stray punch struck the furniture, pulverizing the fine wooden table. The table gave and broke on impact. The fine China teacups splintered into broken vessels and leaked wasted tea. She didn't know how long it was before her temper had cooled and Lancer broke her trance.

"Are you finished?" Lancer asked annoyed. She nodded and returned to her chair.

"What exactly did you find?" she asked. And he told her. He told her about the arrays, Archer, the circle, the school, everything. By the time he'd finished reporting every detail he recalled, an hour had passed and the clock read five in the afternoon. Bazett' scowled. "You said the set-up for the circle was familiar?" Lancer nodded.

"A Soul Absorption Circle, one of many abominable sorceries in my time." He spat. "It usually took a half dozen sorcerers to craft one. Once the victims were trapped, their souls would be ripped from their bodies, ready to be consumed for power."

She looked at Lancer. Even after a day and a half, he was still recovering from his last fight. From what she saw, his outer injuries had healed, but his spiritual core was still recovering. She sighed.

"Can you beat Archer in your current state?" Lancer looked at her. She looked back. He thwacked her forehead.

"Master, while your concern for my well-being is welcome, it is unneeded and unwished for. I faced greater beasts with worse wounds and still proved the better warrior. I doubt that this Archer will be a challenge."

Bazett rubbed her forehead. "Alright, point taken." She groaned. "Still, we shouldn't take chances. I don't want a repeat of our last fight." She said, heading downstairs. Lancer felt an eyebrow quirk behind his helmet. Bazett just smiled. "You're not the only one with an ace up their sleeves." She said as the door closed.

* * *

><p>"There it is." Lancer said as he let Bazett down. The night air was a cool breeze. Tracing a rune of perception, she looked the building over and frowned.<p>

"You were right. This is a boundary field, and from what you said, it's one of those circles in more than one way." She dismissed the rune, and felt her sight revert to normal. "But this is third-rate craftsmanship, at best. It scarce deserves being called magic. It's offensive how someone could mess up this horribly."

Lancer felt his soul flare in disgust. "This is the Servant's doing." He growled. As if the orchestrator of this wasn't troublesome enough already.

"…Lancer," she started, "if I ordered you to collect souls for power…"

"I would do it. But I will only coat my hands with the blood of criminals and monsters. If you wish me to imitate _that,_" he said, "be sure you have enough Command Seals." His voice had such ice even the First Flame would have quailed before it.

Bazett felt a sense of relief. She'd never make him do such a thing, even if he was willing to a degree. It was a weight off her conscience nevertheless, so she focused on her objective. "You said you were familiar with these types of sorceries," she started. "Do you think you could disable it?"

"Hm," He said, "Sorceries are not my strongest suit, but I will see what I can do." Both Master and Servant closed upon the school, rising before them as if it were a mausoleum waiting for corpses.

With one last leap, the pair landed past the entrance, their forms hidden by the building. "Can you sense anything Lancer?" Bazett whispered. He nodded.

"There are two people on the roof of the main building, and another in a nearby storage facility," he pointed across the school grounds at a small shed directly in front of the school building. "The two are at one of the points on the array." He paused. "And one is a Servant. I would hazard to say they are Archer and his Master."

"You're probably right." She paused. "You said Archer didn't have any skills with advanced magecraft beyond what you sensed about his Origin, right?"

"If you mean how his soul manifested, no. All I caught was a glance, nothing more." Bazett's mind raced through possibilities: boundary fields like this one were similar to those from Ancient Greek texts, so only a magus from that time could cast something like this in scope. That meant one of the Servants had to be from that era or earlier. Unfortunately, Greek legends had one too many figures to fit the role of Caster to narrow down the possible candidates.

That meant they were either collaborating with another Servant, or they had somehow been brought into this and were investigating. She sighed.

"For now, we'll deal with the third one. We can't allow witnesses."

"Shall I kill him?" he asked. She shook her head. "You'll draw Archer's attention if you make a scene like that. Lure him and his Master away from the shed. I'll handle the witness myself. When I'm done, I'll see if I can take down Archer's master."

She could feel the scowl on Lancer's face. "I find that rather ungrateful. Do you mean to suggest I cannot defeat Archer myself?"

"Not in the slightest sense. But this is a war, and if we want to win, we need to exploit any and every chance we get." Lancer felt his shoulders sag.

"I do not agree with your methods, but I understand why you employ them." Suddenly, Bazett felt Lancer's presence move, his voice projected into her mind. _At least try to apprehend the Master before killing them. I do miss the thrill of battle._

She removed the tube on her shoulder and unscrewed the cap, extracting a ball of pure lead. "No promises." She whispered. With practiced skill, she began the aria to activate the spell.

* * *

><p>"Archer, keep an eye out for anyone, alright?" Rin said as she activated her sense. "Abzug. Bedienung Mittlestand." Extracting the information from her Magic Crest, she began the procedure of disabling the array.<p>

"Unfortunately child, he's already failed you." A cold voice echoed. Her procedure stopped as she looked at the source. A figure clad in splendid golden armor stood in place. Even as he stood on the water tower, she knew he could close the gap like nothing, and she had no chance taking him on directly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this your doing?" she asked. The figure never averted his gaze. He spat.

"I wouldn't be caught dead creating such things. Their very existence disgusts me. Does it not do the same for you, Archer?"

Time stopped. The address wasn't directed at Rin, but her Servant. Which meant they'd already met.

"Servant Lancer…" She murmured. The golden knight looks back at her.

"Impressive for a child. You already understand my class before I drew my weapon, and you know that I could outrun you with ease." In an instant a spear of light and wind appeared in the knight's hand. "So child, what will you do?" He was curious, but the aura around him could be likened to a panther ready to strike.

Rin bolted towards the fence just in time. She could feel the spear clip a few hairs behind her as it swung past her head. _Too close!_ She thought. Without a moment to think she saw the fence closing in on her. _I have to get to open ground, or I'm—!"_

Lancer's body suddenly appeared before her. He'd already outrun her and was forcing her to reroute her escape. "A valiant endeavor. But you won't escape so easy." He said as she turned around.

"Archer!" she called to the empty air for help. Five steel bullets rained down on Lancer from above.

"Rin!" She heard his voice, and the urgency in it.

"I know, I'm on it!" In a single measure her body became lighter than feathers, and she leapt over, and began to fall. It wasn't fast enough. Again her weight changed, this time to heavier than lead weights. Archer catches her fall before impact, and she bolts.

_ All right, I have to reach the field. Archer and I will do better if we—!_ She stopped. In the center of the field was a woman with a cylindrical tube slung on her shoulder. Without even asking, she knew. Rin clicked her tongue. "Damn…"

* * *

><p>"Finished." She said. Bazett rolled the ball back into the tube and ran towards the storage shed. If the noise on the roof was any indication, Lancer was doing his job. Then there were explosions. And she knew things were going bad. She had to move faster.<p>

_Master!_ Lancer's voice echoed in her head. _Archer and his Master-!_

"Escaped?"

…_Yes. You know?_

"Yeah. I'm looking at her right now." Bazett finished. Instantly he materialized beside her, his spear already drawn.

"My apologies, Master." He muttered.

"You can apologize later." She lowered her stance, her eyes trained on the girl. She was impressed that she didn't flinch.

"So, you're Lancer's master?" the girl asks. Bazett looked the girl over. She was young, and to be a Master at her age, she had to be talented and skilled.

"If I am, what's it matter to you?" She replied. This wasn't working, and she wasn't getting any answers this way. For a second, it seemed they were at an impasse. Which Rin tactfully smashed with a few well-chosen words.

"Were you the one who blew up the church?" Bazett blinked for a second in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that.

"Um, yeah. Why ask?" She answered. And immediately realized why it would've been better off lying. The girl was smiling.

"Ah, well then, that's a relief. I thought finding that false priest's killer would've been harder." Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze was harder than steel. "Archer, crush Lancer will you? I'll handle her." The red knight materialized, a shortsword in his hand.

"Are you sure Rin?" He asked coolly.

"I can handle her, so don't worry about me." She said. He understood her meaning, and focused on his opponent. Bazett watched the girl, and felt the gears churning in her head. She said 'false priest', so maybe she was talking about Kotomine?

"Lancer, keep Archer occupied. Kill him if you wish, but I want her to question."

Her Servant nodded in approval, and stepped away from Bazett, while Archer reluctantly followed.

The two Servants began to march parallel. They way they watched, the way they observed, the way they breathed, belied a fierce tension. Lancer spoke first.

"Well, Archer, aren't you going to draw your bow?" He said. "You've already done it four times now." Archer stayed quiet.

Intimidation through silence. Lancer recognized such tactics: a simple yet powerful method. For mortals at least.

"I see. Well then," he raised his spear, poised to attack. "Die."

The golden knight raced for Archer, a bullet of light arching across the field. The distance had been five meters between the two Heroic spirits. In that distance, Lancer had closed it with one step, moved to a swinging stance, and struck. An orange hue overcame the spear, and Archer felt the raw power of Lancer's weapon as it passed by him.

Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hands as Archer parried his enemy's attacks. Slowly yet surely, he closed the distance to Lancer.

Lancer swiftly parried the white sword and knocked it away, countering with a series of thrusts. Collarbone, heart, kidneys, thighs, and head, each struck with a lion's ferocity and lightning's speed. And yet those swords came to Archer again, as if they never left his palms to begin with.

_What is this madness?_ He thought. _These swords aren't his Noble Phantasms, they aren't meant for a bowman. So why does Archer manage to match me?_

It went on like a broken film: Lancer would disarm Archer and strike, but again those damned swords would be there and parry the attack. Again and again and again they danced this way, a golden whirlwind diverted by a red tornado. It was the mark of how Servants fought: in worlds where margins between triumph and defeat could be measured with a laser's precision and still be undecided. At least, that was the common thought.

Bakuya shattered as Archer spun to deflect Lancer's swing, his next attack already started as a counter to the sidestroke Lancer expected to come. That was where he realized his gross misjudgment of the bowman. Instead of a sideways attack, Archer abandoned the sword. And it was then that Lancer felt a chill on his spine rush upwards, a sense of impending death.

"—!"

Lancer forced his body's center to the earth against his own inertia as a familiar black blade whistled straight above his helmet, cleaving his luscious red plum into a short stump. He had dodged the blade, but it was only the start of his mistakes. He'd left himself open to his enemy.

"—ha!"

Archer sprinted towards the moving bullet. He traced Kanshou and Bakuya once more, only to discard them like pointless keepsakes. An instant later, he'd closed half the distance between himself and Lancer, and the next pair came to his hands. He poured od into the blades, enhancing them, strengthening them from the base components upwards, perfecting every part, eliminating every flaw.

The mirrored blades shone and became the wings of doves and ravens. They were volatile, powerful, broken weapons. He was within Lancer's range with his next step, and if he hesitated, he'd surely die.

Lancer saw his enemy approaching. The attack had been planned before the battle had even started, and he'd fallen for it. An instant's survey revealed the trap: all around him, the swords Archer had thrown away or discarded were circling him, cutting all escape routes in a sphere of spinning death. The only way out was through a narrow entrance, the path blocked by Archer, his twin swords on the verge of destruction. It was a foolproof trap, custom made by a Servant with no innate skill. So instead, he had created his own technique, one that was impossible to copy or overcome. Except for those who had faced such challenges. His path before him, Lancer faced his enemy.

"Come Archer!" The golden bullet sprinted towards his death.

One step. That was his window. The time to step on one foot, and fire off the other. He had to see the pattern. That was the trap's key. The blades circled around like an inescapable cage. But every trap had its workings. To cut the one thread that held the net together and escape, he had to see his enemy's repeated acts.

"—ha!" Archer pressed off his second step. He was just outside Lancer's range. There was no turning back. He would kill him, like he had so many others, for the sake of other people's happiness.

Lancer's boot touched earth. He saw it. Escaping the blades was impossible; it was as good as a fact. But the swords weren't untraceable. They circled back, homing in on their mirrored twins again and again. But if two of the copies were destroyed, there was an opening in the cage, if only for a brief moment, before the remainders would fill the gap. But it needed to be at the moment Archer entered the sphere, or the blades would close in around his own copies and cut off escape. It was an insane plan, but it was a possible plan. Lancer felt his soul flare in excitement. He always enjoyed the hardest challenge. Lancer brought his right foot forward, and began to press off.

The golden knight came right for him. He must've thought he could get out of the technique by speed alone. Not even Cu Chulainn could've escaped with his agility. He closed in on Lancer, the deathblow an instant away. That was all Lancer needed.

_Lightning Pulse!_

A bolt fired from Lancer's spear and struck a pair of the mirrored swords. For an instant, there was the hope of escape. Like a lit flame breaking the darkness, the golden bullet leapt towards the empty space. But he'd miscalculated the time he had, as the other copies rushed to avenge their lost copies with his blood.

"—ngh!"

Lancer cursed the twin blades and their copies. He wasn't going fast enough to reach the opening. He'd be cut into four parts before he reached his goal. He had to be faster. Blindly twisting his body, he aimed at the ground, his spear charging to fire once more. As the shot rang, Lancer could feel his body compressing, shrinking down to carry him further. It was a power that he now blessed with all his soul when he had thought it pointless many times. Without even a breath of space, he escaped. Lancer could feel a cocky smile cross his face, even as he crashed through the second level window.

* * *

><p>As Shirou watched the battle of knights come to a halt, his attention moved back to his classmate and the strange woman. He frowned. While Tohsaka was fighting remarkably well, her opponent was on another level, pressing her advance with ruthless endeavor. And with how the fight was progressing, someone was going to die. Shirou felt his hand morph intto a fist. He had to act, to do something before it was too late. He lifted his foot to move, and stopped dead. His breath was caught as his eyes moved leftward. Resting a half-inch to his left was a pitch-black arrow with edges running down its length. He looked at the arrow, and followed his way to the red knight, an empty bow in his hand.<p>

"Dammit, I forgot about him." Shirou saw the foreigner, and realized she was referring to him. He couldn't reason why, but he felt like something horrible was about to befall him. "Lancer, kill him!"

Now he knew the reason: he wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. "Crap!" Without a thought he felt the ground fly beneath his feet as he sprinted for the school building, and prayed that he wouldn't be found by that monster in human skin. Unfortunately, it was the Root's policy to make Emiya Shirou its personal bitch. It wasn't going to stop now.


End file.
